His Collection

TWENTY-SIX

I sat doodling in the journal I had found under my pillow. It had a few pages torn out, and as I held it in my hands, I couldn't help but feel as if there was something important about it that I should be aware of.

What it is? Where did it even come from?

Before I could inspect it further, I snapped my head to the door when I heard a slight tap. This was my room, and I felt the need to protect my personal territory. As soon as I saw Lance, my worry faded, yet my body became tense.

"Hello," I said while setting my pencil down. He eyed the journal then quickly softened his eyes at me when I asked if he needed anything. He shook his head.

"Are you bored?" Lance asked while walking over. Ever since we had sex, my body seemed to jolt when he was near. I don't know why, but I felt wonderful, and dreadful all at once. He was such a good person to me. That's what I told myself, yet my other voices couldn't agree.

No, he's not. You can't even remember why he isn't.

Shut up.

Let me just throw away this whole box of brain cells...since you're not using 'em!

"Blanca?"

"What?" I answer aloud with a spiteful, bitter tone, then blink away once I realize it was Lance who had called out my name. Apologizing, I then tell him I had not been feeling well. "...something is wrong with me."

"No, no, nothing," he brushed his fingers along the tips of my loose hair. "Not one thing is wrong with you."

He was never afraid to be tender with me, nor to smile and laugh when all the clouds around us spewed lighting down at me. He was something so bright that I wondered if he knew anything of shadows, or darkness.

"You've been in your room all day, come eat," he said. Then while looking away he shook his head a bit before smiling back up at me. "Have dinner with me."

"Dinner?" I reply with a cross brows as he smirks at my face. I always have dinner with him, and of course, Alice, too.

Marina.

What?

Her name is Marina. Marina is Alice.

Marina?

God, you're fucking stupid. What the hell is wrong with you?

"With me?" I ask while parting my lips. Lance nodded, and my eyes re-focused on his. I had been lost in the white rooms of my mind. Sensing my abashment for not being able to read his eyes for a clue to what he had been saying, Lance repeats it all. I finally nod, "All right. Should I go help start washing the vegetables?"

"No, I already have food prepared for us."

For us? My lips become moist as I see his lips curl. He must have found my confusion amusing, because even as he lifted my hand up, and led the way, his eyes twinkled constantly with every passing candle that lighted our way into the livingroom.

The sun was barely visible through the trees as it set into the mountains. The silk curtains were drawn out, and the cushions were sprayed down along with thick blankets, and pillows. In the center of it all the coffee table was beautifully adorned with wild flowers, and the smell of pizza as the fireplace glowed from behind.

Eager to see if my nose wasn't as crazy as my mind was, I walked over with Lance still holding my hand, and sat across from him. I leaned forward, and peeked at the pizza box.

"Is it real?" I asked while slowly lifting up the top. It was unworldly to me, and I wanted to figure out why I was so intrigued by this delightful meal. I used to eat it all the time.

I did? Right?

When was the last time? I ask myself, but his hand pulls me in as he sets my palm over his lips.

I call out his name, and to let me know how much it pleased him to be called by his own name, he shuts his eyes, and almost purrs. After he stops them opens his honey eyes, I ask if Alice was going to join us.

His face didn't change as he replied that she was in the Bad Box.

"Why is she there? Didn't she just get out?" I wonder what she had done, and tried to remember how long it had been since I had seen her. A few hours maybe. After she had been locked away for a few days for punching me that one day, she was then out and I had only seen her once as we passed each other through the hall.

"She went upstairs," he answered.

Oh, that's bad. Bad girl.

You're a good girl?

Yes.

You're the stupid one. You've let yourself become the Stupid Girl.

The clang of glass caused me to snap back into the dinner, and quickly I asked if I could eat. Letting go of my hand, he went on and placed a slice on my plate.

The cheese pizza tasted amazing, almost as if it was alien food, though I had no problem eating fruits, and veggies. In fact, I was surprised I missed the broth. There was a unique taste about it that other food didn't have.

"What's wrong?" Lance asked while biting down on his own slice.

"I like it, I do, but I like your food better."

Suppressing a smile, he shakes his head slowly while fully locking eyes with me. "You deserve to have other stuff, too. I'm not exactly a five star chef, Blanca, but thank you."

The dinner wasn't all spent on simple small talk. Most of the time we would discuss ideas, yet I found it difficult to collect memories and thoughts. Lance was patient, and would comfort me if I suddenly spaced out due to foggy memories. Soon my eyes found their way to the stairs. I couldn't look away.

"Wondering what is up there?" He asked, and I turned my head over to see he wasn't looking at me. As I answered, he then lifted his shimmering eyes back at mine. "And if I tell you it's piles of bodies, what would you do?"

My heart raced, and my eyes wanted to go blind with childish tears, but I wouldn't let them. The voices screamed in my ears, but the softest, most delicate part of me voiced out an answer that made his lips part in surprise.

"I'd still say you aren't a bad guy."

...................................

As you can tell, by now Blanca has seriously lost most of her memories, (mind, too) and she's getting pretty comfortable. Looking at my summary sheet where I draft everything; we should be about half way through the story, more or less.

Hope you are enjoying this little mind-spell of mine.